


let it spill

by KleoHoney



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 18+, Dark fic, F/M, Jealousy, Mental Health Issues, Possessive!Bucky Barnes, Smut, Tags to be added, Vulnerable Bucky, Yearning, becomes an unhealthy relationship, kind of established relationship, oral (male receiving)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KleoHoney/pseuds/KleoHoney
Summary: Bucky stops holding himself back. Initially, you're overjoyed. It quickly becomes apparent why it's a bad thing.
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/Reader, James Buchanan (Bucky) Barnes/Reader
Comments: 32
Kudos: 138





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a DARK fic!! Proceed no further until you've read the tags and understand what they mean. Thank you!

It started off, like most things, at one of Stark’s parties. 

Warm, crowded room. Unlimited booze, short dresses and slow smiles. These things might have once made Bucky happy but not anymore. Which is why he stayed stubbornly in the corner, sipping from a flat beer and searching for the one thing that did. You. 

He spotted you easily. Gliding through the crowd with a permanent smile etched on your lips, offering greetings where appropriate and returning hugs. His grip on the neck of the bottle tightened at that. Wasn’t he enough? Was he so little that you had to resort to affection from others?

Eventually your gaze settled on him and, if he wasn’t mistaken, your smile widened. His lips pulled up in his own mockery of a smile. It felt distorted and uncomfortable but he tried for you. He always did. 

Bucky knew he wasn’t enough. It was only a matter of time before you tired of him and left him to rot. He’d do so happily as long as he had thoughts, memories, of you. A spot of warmth in the cold. 

“Bucky,” you greeted warmly, “what are you doing over here?” 

He didn’t answer, instead leaning down to ghost a gentle kiss on your cheek. As close as he dared. “Your dress is short.”

“It is,” you agreed, stepping back slightly to tug at the bottom. “Do you like it?”

Bucky swallowed dryly, adjusting his position to hide just how much he really liked it. “Yes.”

“Mmm, that’s good,” you hummed, “I wore it for you.”

Bucky’s breath punched out of his lungs. It wasn’t fair. How was he supposed to keep away when, at every turn, you did your best to drag him closer? Unworthy, sullied hands that longed to caress you. It wasn’t right. He couldn’t allow it. 

As if sensing that you were loosing him, you surged forward and gripped his hand in yours. His metal hand. Bucky tried not to choke on his own spit when you brought them close, resting your hands on your chest. If he tried hard enough he could just about imagine the feel of the swell of your breasts beneath his hands. Heavenly. Undeserved. 

“Bucky, you deserve good things,” you insisted. “I want to give them to you.”

The words were finally spoken. Bucky hadn’t dared to hope you reciprocated his feelings and now he felt dizzy with realisation. Intense delight that you thought he deserved good things. You wanted to give them to him and he wanted to accept them.

Bucky wanted to take them.

His arm whirred as if often did when he was fidgety or anxious. He was suddenly very aware of his hard cock grinding against the zipper in his suit. The pressure was more pain than pleasure but it made his lashes flutter nonetheless. It had been so long since he’d felt anything of the sort that he’d take anything he could get.

“Bucky,” you whispered, “do you want to come to my room?”

Fuck. Yes. He swallowed hard. “More than anything.”

It was easy to leave behind the chatter and crowds of the party. Bucky was always glad to leave but this time his heart was hammering at the thought of where he would go next. Where you would take him or what you might let him do.

The pair of you made a beeline for the elevator and you busied yourself with the buttons, selecting the right one for your floor. Bucky stepped in beside you and pressed himself tight to your side. A groan caught in his throat at the warmth of you seeing through his suit. To think that he’d denied himself of what you would willingly give. . .the thought drove him wild. 

Hands clenching at his sides, he tried not to let the nerves takeover. To settle into the gentle haze of lust. Memories flitted through his mind as he searched through them. Tried to recall how a dame like to be pleasured and how he used to do it. 

Your took one of his hands in yours, gently uncurling his fingers until you could intertwine yours with his. A scene flashed through his mind. You spread out on your bed, fucked out from his tongue, his fingers, his thigh, his cock. Bucky imagined the bliss of sinking his fingers into your wet heat and sighed. Knew it would be addictive before he’d even tried it. 

Once you let him in you’d never get him out. Your devoted parasite. 

The journey from the elevator to your room was blurred. Bucky’s eyes stayed focussed on your back and it occurred to him that he might like to lick a wet stripe up it, mould himself to it and then slip his cock into you from behind and fuck you into the mattress. You said you wanted to give him good things and fuck, that was really sounding good right now.

You lead him to your bedroom, confident and sure. He need his mouth to ask but he wanted so many things that they all got caught in his throat and rendered him speechless. 

“It doesn’t need to be a lot,” you assured him. “Tell me if you like something or if you don’t. I just want to give you something good.”

“Something good,” he repeated dumbly. “Please.”

Then you kissed him and Bucky died. Guilt ravaged him because he knew that even if you begged him to let you go, he wouldn’t. He’d take and take and take because it was in his nature and giving was in yours. 

The slick sounds your tongue was making made his cock pulse and he moaned into your mouth, slipping one hand round to grip the back of your neck and hold you to him. He kissed you until you pushed him away, bleary-eyed and lips swollen. Bucky licked his own, admiring how he looked on you.

Guiding him back to the bed, you scrambled for any semblance of control. This wasn’t meant to be about you. Not right now, anyway. This was about doing something for Bucky. Not that it was a chore. You’d been thinking about sucking his cock for months. 

You sank to your knees and Bucky’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. Bracing your hands on his knees, you squeezed a little. “Bucky? You okay with this?”

“Yes,” he rasped, hips tilting till the bulge of his cock pointed directly at your lips. “Please, baby, please. You’re gonna suck my cock?”

Fuck. It hadn’t taken much prompting for him to slip back into himself. There was awkward shuffle as you eased Bucky’s trousers down his thick thighs, admiring the built muscle and bulk. One day, you decided, you’d ride yourself to orgasm on those thighs. But for now you focused on easing Bucky’s thickness past the band of his boxers.

“Oh God, oh God,” his chest heaved, an underlying tone of panic laced in his voice. “I - I might cum.”

Guys finished early were usually a disappointment but Bucky’s words made your thighs tremor and clench together. There was nothing you wanted more than to see Bucky cum, whether it was in ten seconds or ten minutes from now. Preferable in your mouth.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, daring to ghost your fingertip over the swollen head. It was almost purple and looked as if it ached. Your mouth watered and you looked up at your solider and wondered if this is how religious people felt when they prayed. Bucky looked every part the god you wanted to worship. 

Just when he looked prepared to beg, you set your mouth over him and suckled at the head. Instantly his hips bucked, stuffing his cock further down your throat than you’d been prepared for. You pulled off, coughing and spluttering. 

Bucky’s cheeks were glaring red as his hands fluttered about your face before falling uselessly at his side. “I - I am so sorry I didn’t mean - “

Heavy eyes, drool shining in one corner of your mouth, laughing. You look up at him and say, “It’s okay, Bucky. I like it.” and Bucky knows what it is to be in love. 

He feels inexplicably light-headed but watches raptly as you guide his cock back between your lips. He imagined them to be the petals of your sex and his cock jerked in your mouth, gets the barest hint of teeth in return and the pain snaps him back.

Bucky melts in your hands and you try to treat him gently, see his trust for the gift that it is. He’s at his most vulnerable and you’ll do him right. He keens when you suction your mouth over the swollen head and thrusts tentatively into your mouth, eyes transfixed on the fluids connecting his dick to your mouth. 

He reaches out and swipes his finger through them, putting it into his own mouth and licking until there’s nothing left. Wants the taste of your pussy to be heavy on his tongue and knows he would do murder for it. 

Puffy, reddened lips call to him, sing his name softly, and this his hips are bucking and he’s taking everything you offered. You keep up with him, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around his cock. Propel him into an orgasm so hard that Bucky knows there will be no coming back. He wouldn’t if he could. 

Th picture of you with his cum trailing across your lips has his head feeling hazy as he grabs blindly for you. You’re still dressed but he gives up on trying to pull your clothes off when you swat his hands away for the third time. A whine catches in his throat as he wonders at the sudden rejection.

“No, baby,” you kiss him on the mouth and his breath hitches, the taste of him strong. “This is about you. Was it okay?”

“So good,” he answers honestly, settling for arranging your body in the sheets next to him. Slides one arm under your head and intertwines your legs with his. You wouldn’t be going anywhere without him knowing. “Wanna do something for you.”

“Tomorrow,” you coo, nuzzling into his chest and sighing contently. 

Bucky’s cock is perking up again against his thigh but he wills himself to calm. He would wait because it wouldn’t just be tomorrow. It would be the day after that and the day after that and all the ones that followed. Bucky would have forever with you. 

He’d accepted what you had offered and now he wanted everything else.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings** : 18+, DARK fic, murder (not of a major character), possessive behaviour, mental health issues, unhealthy relationship, oral (female receiving), fingering, kind of male masturbation, stalking, jealousy, begging

After that, it didn’t feel so daunting anymore. Bucky confident in sliding his hands down your body, beneath your dress and into the scrap of lace you called panties. Jealousy flared hot. How fucking pathetic - jealous of a pair of panties because they got to touch you before he did. 

Brief moments spent with his hand covering your mound, soaking in the warm and rewarding you with the barest brush of fingers against your clit. Your hips bucked up, grinding into the heel of his palm and he laughed, bringing his fingers up to his mouth for a taste. That promptly killed his laughter because whilst revenge was sweet, your pussy was undoubtedly sweeter. 

The morning was spent going down on you, dragging soft sighs and unrestrained moans from you with broad swipes of his tongue and fingers. He buried his tongue in you and inhaled greedily. Still not deep enough. Bucky wanted to be buried so deeply that you wouldn’t be able to differentiate between what was him and what was you. 

In the end you had to force him away, soft hands pressing against his shoulders and his face. You kissed him on his nose, face hot and murmured, “It’s okay, Bucky. We don’t have to do it all right now.”

“You’ll let me touch you later?” He questioned softly, brushing his nose against your cheek before going lower and sucking another love bite into your neck.

“Mmm, later,” you assured him, pushing his head away with a stern look. “I have to go to work.”

Bucky thought he showed incredible restraint as he watched you get ready. He didn’t follow you into the bathroom and he didn’t cry. Tears of frustration gathered but he blinked them away. It hardly felt fair; he’d just got you and now you were leaving him?

He buried himself back under your covers, content with just your scent for company. The pillows smelled like your shampoo and Bucky tried not to rut too obviously against your bedsheets. He hadn’t feel needs like this in decades and you’d awoken them all in one night.

Steam floated from your bathroom and Bucky imagined the artful way the water would sluice down your body. Wanted to follow each drop with his tongue until all he remembered was the taste of your skin. Decades of memory restored and he’d happily throw it all away to just have you.

You got dressed in the bathroom. Shame. Bucky lazily palmed his cock beneath the sheets, wondering what to do with his day. No missions for him, not with his mind in the state that it was. No, he was left to haunt the halls of the compound like a forgotten ghost.

Movement in the bathroom caught his eye and he bit his lip. Not anymore. Now he had something to fill his day with. 

You left the apartment with a cheery grin on your face and a glow. Bucky simultaneously wanted to hide and show off that glow. Hide it because he didn’t want others seeing you like that - show it off because he wanted them to know it was him who had done it. 

Ten minutes went be slowly before Bucky dared to follow after you. Your office was only a few floors down; perks of being one of Stark’s best employees. His heart pounded in his chest as he trailed down the stairs, adjusting the cap on his head to cover his face.

It took a while to find a position that hid him whilst also giving him access to you. You were engrossed in your computer and Bucky wanted to grab your chin and direct that gaze on himself. Pay attention to me, his brain seemed to shout. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to come down - seeing you like this was a stark contrast to seeing you outside of work when all of your attention was on him.

He felt a bit childish but - you’d said you wanted to give him good things. You’d promised. Getting you to cut down on your work hours would’t be easy but the longer you stared at that screen, the more determined Bucky was becoming. All he wanted was you. It really wasn’t much to ask. 

The sofa was soft beneath him. Bucky forced himself to sink back into the cushions, pulling out a crumpled romance paperback from his pocket. He skipped through the pages, reading the steamy bits only. Research. He’d stolen it from your bookshelf. Wasn’t it important for a man to know what his girl liked?

Feelings of inadequacy still ravaged him but they were much easier to fight off now that he knew his feelings were returned. Bucky didn’t trust his own judgement but he trusted yours. His life was defined by bad decisions and one of his only good ones was you. 

The hours trickled by. No-one gave him a second glance, too wrapped up in their own lives. Like you. Bucky hated it. You didn’t fit in with these people. Not really. Bucky had seen with his own eyes how much you cared for other people and how, when you were with him, all you attention was solely on him. 

It didn’t take long to do the math. If he took you away from here then you’d have more room for him. 

But Bucky didn’t get the chance to think too much about because then you were looking up - but not at him. His nostrils flared as he lowered the book. 

There was a man. Brown eyes, dirty blond hair. Built like a brick shithouse. Violence reared its ugly head and Bucky flinched as you smiled at the guy. Was that what you did down here? Entertained guys like that?

Then the guy turned away and your smile dropped and fuck, relief filled him so fast that he felt lightheaded. Anger still lingered. Was this guy bothering you? 

The conversation couldn’t have been long, five minutes at the most. It felt like an eternity to Bucky and every second was a struggle not to march over there and drag the guy from your office. 

Bucky wasn’t really sure why he didn’t. It was only normal, right? He was just looking after his girl. Any man would do the same if they were in his position. 

Rubbing a hand over his face, Bucky let the scratch of his stubble ground him. Followed the guy with his eyes, watching him disappear into one of the other cubicles. There was a name on it and Bucky noted it down. Just in case. 

🩸

There was a brief moment when Bucky panicked that he wouldn’t make it back to your apartment before you did. It was only by luck that you dropped your purse and Bucky managed to squeeze by you and vanish up the staircase before you could notice. Too risky. 

He was waiting patiently on the sofa when you got back. You smiled. “You didn’t have to stay here. Were you bored?”

“No,” Bucky answered honestly, “not at all. I like it here.”

You wrinkled your nose at him and grinned. “Really? Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, then.”

“How was your day?” Bucky asked. A tiny part of him was curious to see if she would mention that guy. Not that he knew how to feel about it. 

“Alright,” you shrugged, dumping your purse on the counter before coming to join him on the sofa. “Some jackass didn’t finish his work on time. Now I have to help him.”

Ah. That’s what it was about. Bucky envisioned his hands wrapping around the guy’s throat and felt nothing but sick satisfaction. The crushing of the windpipe, the rapidly forming bruises. Bucky had hated being Hydra’s pawn but he would do whatever if it was you who asked. 

Brushing the thought aside, Bucky grabbed your calves and lifted them into his lap. Admired how huge his hands looked on them. Angling his face to yours, he asked, “Can we fuck?”

You spluttered and Bucky fought off a satisfied grin. It was nice having the upper hand. He’d never had it with you before. Then your answer wiped the smile clean off his face. “Isn’t it a little too soon, Bucky?”

“I had my tongue in your pussy this morning.”

“Jesus!” You coughed. “Bucky, that’s not fair.”

He licked his lips, subconsciously chasing any remnants of your taste. “But I - please.”

You were shaking your head slowly. “Bucky, no. This is a little too fast for me. I like you, you know that. Just be patient, okay?”

Bucky scowled. It all felt a little too much like rejection and his heart was thundering in his chest. Any moment now, you’d tell him to get out of your apartment and never talk to you again. He wouldn’t, of course, but just imagining the words made him feel sick to the stomach. 

After living in a hazy, distorted reality for so long, Bucky was desperate for touch. Partly because it helped him know what was real and what wasn’t and partly because your skin beneath his hands was the sweetest addiction. 

His throat was dry as he stared blankly at the side of your face. You’d gone back to watching TV, seemingly ignorant to how hard he was beneath your legs. He thought about rutting against you but wasn’t sure if you’d tell him off. He didn’t want that. He wanted you open and ready and receptive. 

Mind racing, Bucky tried to think. Was it possible to get a girl like you desperate and wanting? Bucky had never loved someone like you before, someone who met him in every way. He couldn’t focus and each thought he was having served to only make him hornier. 

A plea was dancing on the tip of his tongue when there was a knock at your door. Insistent, loud. Bucky’s lip curled away from his teeth. It was evening now. This was your time - his time with you. Whoever was trying to take that away was one stupid son of a bitch. 

You stood up to answer it, absently brushing your fingers through his hair on the way past. It calmed him and he let out a breath, rubbing at his temples. You made it hard to think - but Bucky couldn’t stand to be away from you. It was a never ending cycle. Bucky didn’t want it to end.

Just as his thoughts had began to clear, he focused in on the voice with startling accuracy. Oh.

Oh.

It was easy to jerk the door from your grip and push you aside (gently, in a way he only knew how to be with you). The guy from earlier was standing at the door, startled, with papers in hand. Bucky saw red, so much red.

The papers scattered as Bucky dragged the guy in by his throat, cutting off airflow in one smooth gesture and pinning him in another. You were screaming but it didn’t escape his notice how you were quick to shut the door. All of the apartments were soundproof - you were covering for him. Sweet girl.

After this Bucky would fuck you on the floor next to the cooling corpse. Even in death, Bucky wanted him to know who you belonged to. Wanted him to know that it was Bucky who you gave good things to. 

If you’d let him, that was. You were trying to pry Bucky’s fingers from the guy’s neck. It wasn’t working but Bucky let you try, nosing at your hair and pressing gentle kisses to your cheek, trying to calm you. It seemed to be working, judging by the way your frantic screaming was dying down into soft whimpers.

Bucky didn’t let go until the guy wasn’t moving anymore. Shook him a few times just to make sure, only stopping when you started to cry.

“No, honey, sugar,” he crawled over to you, pulled your hands from your face and kissed you. “Don’t cry. Don’t wanna see you cry for him.”

“You killed him, Bucky,” you hiccuped. Your eyes were glued to the body. Bucky manoeuvred you until all you could see was him. Just how he wanted. “I - he’s dead.”

“For you, honey, it was for you,” he cooed, “don’t you deserve some rest too?”

“Oh, God,” you were coming together now, glancing around like prey under the eye of a watchful predator. “We - we have to get rid of him.”

“’S okay, I can do it,” he promised. “Don’t have to worry. I can take care of it.”

He’d take care of you, too, but now wasn’t the right time to say. You were scared, would hardly be receptive to his advances. Bucky could take it slow. 

There was no urgency now, no frantic need to take. Bucky watched as you gathered soap and water (and bleach) and scrubbed at the floor where the guy had died. Where Bucky had killed him. He didn’t have to take. 

He already had you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Tumlr - **kleohoneyao3**
> 
> I have some stuff on there that isn't on here and I usually upload over there first 🖤


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